997, The Croon
by nevereatdirt
Summary: Your name is Cronus Ampora and you are the best goddamn DJ on this campus. But there are things that even you can't be prepared for.
1. Chapter 1

The pulse and flow of the music surrounds you as you sit in the booth. The On Air sign is lit up above your head and your show partner from the last hour is outside, making obscene gestures at you through the window. You casually flip him off as you set up your time line and watch the phones. It's your second year at this school and they've given you a late night slot on air.

A _solo _late night slot.

Even so in the hour before you work with a first year. He wears stupid sunglasses even at eleven o'clock at night, but he's a pretty cool guy with a thick Texas drawl. It works well on the radio as he lilts and the way that his sentences are practically poetry rolling past his lips. Honestly you'd had a crush on him when you'd first seen him, but now you know better. He's cocky, like you are, and there's really only room for one smooth-talking cool kid in a relationship. And it's always you.

Plus the first rule of DJ-ing is that you never do anything with your show partner. Bad karma.

But he's left you to your own show at this point and you're the only one in the station.

It's a freeing feeling as you sit, working on writing a song of your own as the music plays. Soon the song comes to an end and you start to check the phone lines. Before you answer, you clear your throat and then smile. "Hello listeners, this is Daddy Dualscar. Who's calling?" It's kind of nice to use your real voice for once instead of the one you put on.

You answer the first call and the first few callers are just generic names, telling you how much they love your voice or your show or your music choices.

But caller number five is different. "Hello, listener, this is Daddy Dualscar. Who's calling?" A canned response, but your listeners seem to like it.

"Hello." The voice is soft, barely there.

"Hello, Hello. What has you calling?" You grin to yourself. You've been trained in the art of dad jokes since you were little, but you doubt that anyone listening caught that one.

"I've been... Sad. Lately." The voice sounds sad. A high timbre and a flowing, oratory voice. It must belong to someone used to public speaking. Possibly someone in student government.

"You've been sad? What's got you sad there, lad?" You never did catch a name. You hope that it's a man on the other end.

Silence. Dead air. You're supposed to cut the line after five seconds of dead air, but you feel like this caller needs you. Finally he speaks. "I've felt very alone..."

"Alone?"

"Yes... And. And your show... You kept me going til now. I just wanted to thank you and to let you know that I'm sorry."

"Sorry? Lad, no. Whatever it is you're going to do to yourself, don't."

You can hear him breathing on the other end. "Don't...? Why not?"

"Because, dear caller, if you do then I'll miss this voice of yours."

"You've... You've never heard me before."

"No, but I'd like to hear you again." You swallow, hoping that it's enough.

"You do?" You can practically hear the smile in his soft voice and you want to reach out and hug him through the line. To tell him that it's okay.

"I'd like it if you could call me. And to tell me what I can call you."

"Call me..." You hear a loud swallow. He must be nervous. "Signless."

"Signless?" You nod. "Signless, listen to me. You are wonderful and I'd like to talk to you again, okay?"

"Okay..."

"Call in again. Any night you'd like. But I'd like to hear from you at least once a week." Words that your therapist had told you as a boy. Words that kept you from hurting yourself. Words that kept you alive.

Words you hope will help Signless.

"Thank you."

"It's no problem, Signless. But I'm being motioned at to end my show, okay? I'll hear from you later. I hope that you're doing okay when I hear back from you."

"All right. Next... Next week. Same time." You can hear him tearing up.

"Now this isn't goodbye, this is just talk to you later."

"Okay... I'll. I'll talk to you later."

"Talk to you later, love." And without another word the line goes dead.

You sit for a few seconds to see if he's still there, but now it really is just dead air. So you prepare yourself and turn your personality back on. "Thank you for calling, Signless. Hope to hear back from you next week." You brush hair out of your eyes as you speak. "Now as for the rest of you, wigglers, this is Daddy Dualscar, getting off." You turn off your mic and you can hear the next show starting in your headphones before you take them out and leave the building.

There's a thick layer of snow on the ground. As expected from this shitty upper Midwestern weather... You trudge through the snow, wrapped up in your heavy leather jacket and then you sit in your car, lighting a cigarette to try and warm up. To no avail.

You really should know better at this point.

But you start your car and go through the process of letting it warm and scraping it off.

Fucking _winter_ anyway.

You're heading for home, driving across a bridge over the river when you seem him.

He looks like he's about your age and he's sitting on the edge of the bridge.

You stop the car and trudge over to him, making sure you put on your best American accent. It's gotten easier for you since coming to the States. "Hey, chief. What're you doin' out here this time a night, huh?" You lean against the side of the bridge.

He turns his face and you can see trails where he'd been crying. "Pardon?"

His voice is shaky, which makes sense. He's only wearing a pair of jeans and a light turtleneck as he sits on the edge of the bridge. He must have walked here from the campus. "I asked what you're doin' out here." You lean against the edge of the bridge, staring down into the water.

He swallows and this time you realize that the shakiness in his voice is _not_ from the cold at all. "I was going to jump." It's from fear.

"Jump? Why?"

"I hate myself and my life. No one seems to notice me anymore. All of my friends... They hate me. They ignore me." He stares down at icy depths below. "They tell me that I'm just a waste of oxygen and... And you can only take so much of that!" He practically shouts the last sentence and shakes his head. "Sorry. I'm sure that what I said could have been incredibly triggering. I hope that I didn't offend you with anything that I said."

You sigh and pull off your coat, slinging it over his shoulders. "Hey, now. We all get those days, yeah? You just gotta keep going. And if those friends a yours do that to you then they ain't your friends."

He pulls the coat around him. It's almost comically huge on him, but it just succeeds in making him look like a pale child under the moonlight. "I... I couldn't do it."

"What?"

"I couldn't jump..." He's shaking visibly. "I couldn't do it. How can I want to do it, but not be able to?" He looks at you and you can see the hurt in his eyes. He's asking for help. A total stranger. Twice in one night? This could hardly be a coincidence.

"It's because you want to live." You shrug a t-shirt clad shoulder and rub your arms, trying to stay warm. "You don't want to die. No one wants to die, honestly. It's just that some people don't want to deal with life anymore."

He swallows and you watch as his tears hit the denim of his jeans. "M-Maybe..."

"And you know what? You're not alone, okay?" You sit on the edge next to him, legs facing the street. "I just fuckin' met you and I can tell that you're a pretty cool guy."

"Thank you..." He smiles for the first time since you've seen him.

And, somehow, you know that this is the beginning of something big.


	2. Chapter 2

That night you drove him back to his dorm room, though you didn't even think to ask for your jacket back. Which is why you're now standing in this goddamn field with your art 103 class shivering your fucking ass off while you try to draw this little wooden school house. In the distance you can see someone that looks familiar. You assume that it's probably just your mind playing tricks on you. So many Midwesterners look alike to you.

But then you realize that inside the big, wooly parka and Hello Kitty hat is your freshman partner. He's one of the few people that seem to be able to tolerate you so you'd called him this morning to bring you a coat.

That was, admittedly, a terrible idea. Because even though he likes to call himself the Knight of Time during your show with him, he is far from timely. In fact you can't remember the last time he'd shown up when he was supposed to. But here he is, extra parka in tow as he sits next to you.

"Oh my _god_, you useless late ass fucker!" You give him a solid _thwap_ on the arm and he swats back. It's nice to have someone on your level with that. Even if they're dressed like Randy from a Christmas Story. For the _irony_ he says. And you always roll your eyes because you know that he's not used to this horrible weather having grown up in such a hot place.

But for once the layers come in handy for you as you shrug a fluffy, grey parka over your nearly frozen shoulders. At once the heat trapped by the down makes you let out a happy little noise and you hear him just _snort_ at you.

"Man you are a fucking loud son of a bitch aren't you?" He smacks your now-padded shoulder and you just roll your eyes, still drawing.

"Yeah, well, I got my own show so fuck you."

"You're old."

"You're a cunt."

"Oh that hurts my heart, Ampora."

"Yeah, yeah Strider." You shake your head. You love the way you two can go off like this, but you've got more pressing matters on your mind at the moment. "So I gave away my leather jacket last night."

"What the fuck for? You go out after your show?"

You shake your head. "No... There was. There was this _kid_ on the bridge. I mean I say _kid_, but fuck he was probably older than you. But he looked so cold... So fuckin' scared..."

"So you just... gave away your favorite fucking jacket because of that?"

"No! I just like stopped to see if he was okay and he said he was gonna..." You take a moment to think about whether you should say it and you decide to go for it. Though your words are markedly quieter than usual. "He said he was gonna jump off."

"Whoa shit." He adjusts the straps of his hat. "You stopped him then?"

"I think so... I took him back to his dorm. But that's why I don't got my jacket today."

He nods his head like he's listening to a song and you almost think that he's done talking. But who are you kidding? This kid never shuts up. "You know who he is at all?"

"No. Just know he really needs to be talkin' to someone and it ain't me. I'm terrible at this shit."

He looks right at you at an angle that you _know_ he knows lets you see his eyes, and he just looks so sincere, even through his douche bag shades. "Cronus." And that's when you can tell he's serious as a heart attack. "You're actually pretty damn good with that shit. I mean I heard you talking to that fucker last night and what you said seemed to make a difference."

You smile a little. "Thanks, Dave." You chew at your lip. "I just wonder who he is..."

"Well what's he look like?"

"What?"

"Hey I got more classes than you and I live in the fuckin' dorms. I probably seen him wandering his little suicidal ass around campus."

You glare at him a little. "That ain't exactly a good thing to be sayin', Strider. You never know who's gonna fuckin' hear you."

"I see that you did take that class about tact and shit then."

You give him another solid hit to the arm. "Shut your fuckin' trap, Strider." You sigh and pull a cigarette from your pocket, lighting it to watch the tendrils stream up while you take a drag. "He was kinda short. Had kinda like... Brownish-red hair I guess? Auburn I think is what you'd call it?" You furrow your brow, watching as a fresh layer of snow begins to accumulate. "He wore like black skinny jeans and I think it was a homemade turtleneck."

"What color turtleneck?"

"Fire engine red."

"I know who it is." He nods his head like he's white-boy dancing in a club with a stupid smirk spread across his face.

"What?"

"It's that gaddang turtleneck. It can't be anyone but Kankri Vantas."

You take another drag and watch as your class disperses. "Kankri Vantas?"

"Yeah. He's in my freshman anthropology class. You know the one. Every fucker on campus's gotta take it."

"Yeah I know the one. You know where his dorm is?"

"Sure do. He lives on my floor."

"No shit?" You raise your eyebrows as you pull the cigarette from your mouth. "You think you could get my jacket from him?"

"I can try but I make no guarantees."

You nod. "Thanks, Strider."

"Don't be thanking me yet, I don't have it." He snickers at which you make it a point to just roll your eyes exaggeratedly.

"Yeah well find out where he is and lemme know. I could always go in person." You grin at him and now it's his turn to roll his eyes. Or at least you think he does from the way he moves his head.

"Easy there lover boy." He smacks you in the shoulder and you return the gesture.

You stretch and give your neck a good crack. "Fuck you, Strider. I just wanna get my jacket back." You pause to take a drag and flick ash from the end of your cigarette. "And maybe check to see if he's doin' okay."

He sighs and stands up. "Yeah, yeah. C'mon, bro. I am freezin' my Southern gonads off and I would very much like to be keeping them." He offers you and hand and helps to pull you up and you take it. As the two of you walk together you study the faces of the students walking past you. You almost miss when Dave speaks up again in the University Center. "Hey, Ampora. You wanna get some food?"

You nod and the two of you get some soup and part ways.

The rest of your day proves uninteresting. At least until your show starts.

Dave sits outside your booth while he pulls on all of his layers and you just introduce the music while he makes obscene gestures at you again. Once your mic is off and the music starts, you flip him off and he just laughs as he leaves the studio.

After about twenty minutes, you stop the music and smile into your microphone. "Hello, listeners. This is Daddy Dualscar's Dubstep Corner. We're goin' to be takin' a break from the music to take a few calls here. So if you have anything to say, be sure to give me a ring."

You wait until you hear the phones ring and answer the first line. Nothing interesting, so you just put it to the back of your mind. Two more callers and then... "Hello listener, this is Daddy Dualscar. Who's calling?"

The line is quiet for a moment, though you think that you can just barely make out the sounds of voices in the background. Like someone's sitting in a room with something happening outside. But the moment passes and you hear a familiar voice. "Hello, Dualscar."

The voice is just as sweet as you remember and you smile without thinking. "And hello to you as well, Signless. What has you calling tonight instead of next week?"

You hear him sigh on the other end. "Nothing, really. Just... Checking in."

You spin a little in your chair, just glad that he's alive. "I'm glad you did, love. Always nice to hear back from people." You wish that you could see his face at being called _love_. Did he blush? Or was he just completely indifferent?

"I... Thank you. You really did help me yesterday."

You swallow and smile sadly, knowing that he doesn't know it was you after the show. "Glad to hear it, Signless. How are you feeling?"

"I'm... A little better. Feeling like someone cares."

"Of course I care, Signless."

"I know. Thank you."

The two of you talk longer than you probably should, but it's nothing much. Just small talk about classes and little stories about his lunch, though you can hear subtle changes in his background noise. To anyone else it would be nothing. _With_ anyone else it would be nothing. But his voice makes you want to protect him and tell him that he's going to be okay.

So you set your resolve as your call nears its end. "Signless? I've got to go soon. My show is drawing to end end for the night."

"Okay..." He pauses. "Can I call again?" You can hear a shaky hope in his voice. Like he's afraid that you'll say no, but is desperately hoping that you won't.

"Of course you can. Same time. I'll be waiting for your call."

"Thank you." Relief in his tone. Beautiful.

"I'll talk to you later, then." You smile, already looking forward to it.

"Of course. Talk to you later... Goodnight, Dualscar."

"Goodnight, Signless.

The line goes dead and you turn off the line, knowing that you can't take anymore calls, but still you wait for just a second before speaking. "Thank you again for calling, Signless. Hope to hear form you again soon." You lose the reverie in your tone after addressing him personally. "Now as for the rest of you, wigglers, this is Daddy Dualscar, getting off." Your signature sign off phrase. You wonder how many people have noticed how overtly sexual you are through everything. Though you've positive that all of your listeners have. They are in college after all.

You pull on the grey parka and walk out in to the cold night air, lighting a cigarette and just watching the smoke again. It had been a good show. Signless had even called in. With a wistful sigh, you start up your car and clear it off before heading back to your apartment.

On the way home you see the same boy from yesterday, sitting on a bench in a park a few blocks from campus. Around his narrow shoulders hangs your jacket, so you take the opportunity to park the car and sit next to him on the bench.

You don't say anything. It's time for you to let him speak first.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Author's note: **__TW: Lots of mentions of suicide and attempts at it this time. Shoot me a PM or leave a review if you would like a summary of this chapter. A real one._

**Chapter Summary: **Your name is Kankri Vantas and you feel like the world hates you.

* * *

Your week has been, in a word, horrible. You were told coming into college that things would be difficult. That being separated from your family would _hurt_ a little. But no one ever told you about how much even your friends would change. About how all of you would move on from each other so to speak. But some of your friends still talk to each other. Just not to you.

Even Latula, who you've always loved in the most platonic of ways, has started to distance herself from you and your "preachy lectures" as apparently _all_ of your so-called friends has started to call them.

Which, of course, you find incredibly offensive. They're not _lectures_, they are _discussions_. It just so happens that no one ever wants to chime on on your topics. That's all it is.

Or so you had told yourself in those first two months on campus.

Now it seems more like all of your friends are disinterested. No... That would be putting it lightly. They've been _ignoring_ you. Some of them have called you terrible things, which you used to lecture them about. _Actually_ lecture them about. But now you just sit there when they use those awful words and take it. You act like none of them have any effect on you, but they do.

They've affected you in such a way that you've been having trouble getting out of bed every day. That going out into the world seems like a chore. That even _talking_ is difficult. No one seems to notice the difficulties that you're having or how little you're eating. None of them seem to understand the black pit growing inside of you.

You tell yourself that you aren't depressed. That you're too well off to be depressed. You have a loving, caring family and you have never wanted for anything save social reform. But it gets harder to tell yourself that when nothing makes you smile anymore. When nothing seems to _mean_ anything. When you're so completely and utterly alone.

But, strangely, there has been one person there for you. Late at night, when you should be sleeping soundly, you listen to the school's radio station. And the host whose voice seems to just draw you in is the only one who has a _dub-step_ hour. You've never really cared for the genre, but the cadence of his voice just draws you in.

For the first two months of school, you just listened. You only caught his show once in a great while during a late night study session. But this past week you steeled your resolve and called in the night you'd settled to follow through with your Plan.

You went to the bridge outside of campus on one of the coldest nights of the year and sat there, staring at the icy water while you spoke to him.

And he told you that he would miss you if you did it. He told you that you were wonderful. No one had said that to you in so long and it all felt something like fate. So you just sat on the bridge after the call had ended and he had called you _love_ and you just cried. You still aren't sure how long you cried, but eventually someone pulled over. He was like someone out of a dream, all ethereal with such a stark contrast between his skin and his hair and a face like some kind of _god_.

But it wasn't his appearance that changed your mind. He stopped and made sure that you were okay. He asked what was wrong and why you were there and it seemed like he genuinely _cared_. So when he gave you his jacket and drove you back to the dorms, you couldn't help but to be just a little happy. Someone had cared enough to help you.

It gave you just a little hope.

But today hasn't gone any better than yesterday. You went through your classes and were ignored by your friends, taunted by the ones that you _did_ talk to, and you still feel the same way.

The end of the day brings you to the conclusion that you should just go for a walk. A nice, long walk. But you don't want to do it until you finish your coursework. You'd put it all off with your Plan, but now you needed to do it.

And at the same time tonight as last, you call him.

And the two of you talk and he calls you _love_ again and he makes you feel like you're the only person in the world that he wants to talk to. And as you talk to him, you decide to go for that walk. There's a party on your floor and it's preventing you from getting anything done anyway, so you pull on the stranger's jacket and just walk. You walk until your feet are freezing and you just talk to him.

Until he has to go, that is.

But when he hangs up you just _keep_ walking and eventually you come to a park. It's farther than you'd gone last night and there's a bench under a gazebo that looks like a perfect place to sit for a while with your legs pulled to your chest.

You stay that way for what feels an eternity, just sitting in the cold with the jacket pulled tightly around you. And then... Then the man that gave it to you is there. He's just watching you and those steely blue eyes on you just make your already red face flush. This time, though, he says nothing. It's almost like he's waiting and you're just too afraid to say anything first. So you sit in silence, hoping, praying, wishing that he will just say something.

He says nothing, though. He just watches you for what feel like hours until he pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, bringing one to his lips. He offers you one but you just make a face. "I don't smoke."

A grin spread across his face as he lights his. "I was wonderin' when you'd say somethin', chief." He takes a drag and lets the smoke tendrils twist and whirl around his face in the wind.

"What?"

He shrugs a shoulder. "I'm just glad to see you're okay is all." He looks away from you, and you swear that you can see a pink flush dusting his face, though it occurs to you that it may just be from the cold.

"I... Yes. I'm all right." You pull your knees closer to you chest, unsure as to what to say. "Why do you care?"

His head snaps back to you and he looks like you've offended him somehow. You make a mental note to ask for his triggers so that it doesn't happen in the future. "Why the fuck wouldn't I care?" He puts his cigarette in his mouth and rubs his hands together to warm them as he speaks. "I didn't know if you'd... You know." He shrugs, pulling the cigarette out of his mouth again and blowing out a stream of smoke.

The action reminds you of old movie stars somehow, but his words sting a little. You _do_ know what he means. "I still want to a little. But somehow it all feels so final. And I feel like a failure for not being able to go through with it."

He furrows his brow and turns his gaze to the snow covered floor of the gazebo. "Yeah, I, uh... I get that. It's like bein' stuck between a rock and a hard place. On the one hand you're still here, but then on the other you fucked up and you feel like you're worthless." His words cut you to your core. He speaks so effortlessly and simply, but his words...

"Why are you telling me this." You convince yourself that you don't want to know what he means, even though you already _do_ know the meaning of his words.

With a lift of his head, his eyes are locked with yours. "Because I need you to know that you're not alone."

"Everyone says that." He look away from him, not wanting him to have the advantage with eye contact. "No one means it, though."

You can hear him sigh. "I mean it. I've been where you are before. And there wasn't anyone there for me."

When you look up after a moment's silence, you see that his face is as somber as his tone as he stares at his sleek, black boots. "What?"

"I was thirteen the first time."

"_What_?"

"Pills." His explanation is short, but you know what he means. You'd thought of pills. But you didn't think you'd want something that you might survive. "And I was sixteen the second." He looks up at you. "I wrote a note. I had one of my dad's guns." He gestures with his hand, miming the action. "I had it in my mouth and was going to pull the trigger, but then I heard my brother come home." His voice is shaking like he's about to cry. "So I threw it across the room and it went off as it hit, shooting the wall." His hands are in his hair and his cigarette sits half forgotten between two fingers as it burns down to ash. "And Eridan ran into my room and saw the note and..." He shakes his head. "And that's what happened the second time." He sits up, wiping his eyes with the heel of his hands.

"I'm... I'm sorry." You don't know what else to say.

"Don't be." He leans back. "The last time... The last time I had just turned twenty." He looks up at the roof of the gazebo and you just watch his profile until he holds up his wrist. "Two cuts. That was all that I thought it would take. But my roommate came back and he bandaged me up and took me to the hospital. They saved my hands but the feeling in the right is still shitty." He takes a drag of his cigarette as you process what he's told you.

"Someone stopped you each time."

"All but the first. And I stopped myself that time." His voice is hollow and matter of fact. Like what he's told you isn't some horrible thing.

"And that's... Why you stopped me?"

He shrugs, taking another drag. "You looked like you needed a friend."

You smile a little. "I do."

"And now you look like you need a ride back to your dorm. Want another lift?"

You shake your head. "I don't want to go back there. There's a floor party happening right now before finals." With a deep sigh, you rest your head against your knees. "Could I go with you?" Your voice is quiet and you're just so unsure. Why would he want to take you with him? He must be in his late twenties. Probably a young professor on campus and you... Nineteen and pathetic.

"Why do you wanna come with me?"

"Because I need someone."

He's quiet for a while and you can hear him as he lights his lighter again. "Well, I'm someone I guess." Another brief pause. "I'm Cronus."

You look up at his introduction, almost surprised. "My name is Kankri."

He smiles warmly at you. "Nice to meet you. So you wanna come back to mine?"

"To... Yours?"

"Yeah. To my apartment." He scratches the back of his neck.

You sigh, playing with the long sleeves of his jacket over your shoulders. "I'd love to."

He stands up, a grin spreading over his face as he holds out a hand to you. "Then let's go it's fuckin' freezin' out here."

You take his hand and he leads you to his car.

Inside, it's still warm and the radio is playing your favorite show, though you realize that it's the one that had just been played when you hear your own voice. With a glance at him to see if he notices, you're amazed to see how somber his face is again. And that's when you know that he knows.

"So, Signless, huh?"

You swallow. "Yes."

"Nice to meet you." He drives in silence for a bit and you can see him trying to think about something. You aren't sure what. Maybe he'd called in before. Maybe he wanted to help him because of this show.

Maybe it was just a coincidence.

But before you can think anymore, he's stopped at an apartment building and he's leading you up to his.

When the door closes behind you, you suddenly feel like coming may have been a bad idea. Like something _horrible_ could happen if you stay here. But he doesn't turn around. He just takes off his heavy coat and hangs it up, before he pulls off his boots. The silence around you is beginning to make you terrified.

Until he speaks again, voice different. Lower. More... Scottish. "Glad to hear you're okay, Signless." He looks up at you, a soft smile on his face. "I was worried that something had happened after I'd left."

You stare at him, mouth agape, before you move to him and just hold him in your arms. He's so much taller than you, but it's reassuring. You need this. You need him. You need someone to worry about you.

You don't even care that he doesn't really know you. That you don't really know him. But you hope that that will change.


	4. Chapter 4

You can't help but to be surprised by his embrace. You aren't even quite sure what to do. But it only takes you a moment to realize that you should at least hug him back. That that's what he needs. So you just stay there, holding him and rubbing his back. You aren't sure if he knew who you were, but you'd been hoping that he was Signless.

After a few moments you can swear that you can hear soft sobs from him and you can't help but to just hold him a little tighter as both of you slump to the ground. It's been a hard couple of days for him and you can tell that he needs someone there for him. With your voice, your _real_ voice, soft and low, you finally speak. "I'm here for you."

He whimpers and rests his head on your chest. "Why isn't anyone else, though?"

That hurts. You've been where he is. You know how lonely it can be. "I'm sure that there are other people there for you. You got any siblings?"

He swallows and he looks up at you, which makes your heart race. He's so close to you. He's so close and at this distance you can see gold flecks in his blood-shot green eyes. "Just one... My younger brother, Karkat." His lip is trembling and you just want to kiss him and tell him that everything will be okay.

But instead of his lips, you kiss his forehead. "I'm sure that he loves you and that he cares about you."

"He isn't here." His voice is broken and soft as he speaks.

"That doesn't matter. He loves you, I'm sure."

"You've never met him." The bitterness in his voice comes as a surprise to you.

"And does that really make a difference, love?" You keep your head on his shoulder as you speak, not wanting to see his face. Or rather not wanting him to know that you'd be looking.

He pauses, though and you feel him pulling closer. "I... I suppose not."

"Then you know that he's your brother and, no matter how much you two might hate each other or bother each other, he'll care about you." You rub his back, feeling the supple leather of your own jacket beneath your fingers.

"If you say so..." He moves and you can feel his head resting against yours. The weight is somehow reassuring, but you know that the two of you shouldn't say like this.

"Hey, uh, you want anything to drink?" _Smooth._ You lean back a little, smiling at him reassuringly.

"A glass of water would be nice." He pulls away from you, breaking the hug. You suppose that it's only natural. He was the one to start it after all.

So you stand up and lead him to the kitchen, talking the whole way through the short trip. "Just water? C'mon it's the weekend. Have a drink and let loose!" You smile as you pull two beers out of your fridge.

"I'm nineteen."

"And I won't tell anyone." You wink as you open them on the edge of the counter and slide one to him. "It's just a PBR. Try it."

He sighs and wipes the mouth of the bottle off. "I'm not sure that this is entirely appropriate."

You shrug as you take a drink of yours. "Might not be. But it might help you relax a little. I think you need a little less stress right now. I get that."

He gives a little half smile and snorts. "I suppose you have a point..." He lifts the bottle to his lips and takes a long drink, making a face as he does. "This is absolutely repugnant."

You laugh and then take another drink. "Yeah if you ain't used to drinking it can be." You sit on a stool and motion for him to sit down next to you. "But sometimes drinking can help with your problems. Sometimes it can make them worse. But if you got a friend with you, at least you're not alone."

He furrows his brow and thumbs the bottle before taking another drink. "You're... Not entirely what I was expecting." His cheeks are already a little flushed. It's obvious to you that he's never had anything to drink before now.

"Oh? How so?" You take another long drink, finishing the first bottle, before getting up to get another as you listen.

"You're... Younger than I'd expected."

You turn around and raise your eyebrows. "Really?" You open your second bottle and look down at yourself. "My voice not fit my body or what?"

He shrugs, sipping slowly at his bottle. "It just seems like... As Dualscar your voice should belong to an older man? But hearing your real voice it seems more like you're my age."

You laugh as you sit back next to him. "You think this Brooklyn thing is real? That mighta just made my night, babe."

You watch as a flush spreads across his cheeks and you're unsure if it's from the beer or at being called babe. "It... It isn't?" His jaw drops a little and you can't help but to notice how _full_ his lips actually are.

With a shake of your head, you try to force the thought from your head. You'd already thought that he was cute when you'd seen him yesterday, but he doesn't need flirting or fucking right now. He needs a friend. "Uh, nah, not at all." You shrug a shoulder. "Was kinda a copin' mechanism when I got here for my A-levels." You look at him. "That's like my junior and senior year, you know? My dad got transferred here so me and my bro came to the states. It was tough, though. Obviously it was tough. I told you what happened." You take another drink. "But yeah. I started to cover my accent more and more the longer I was here." Another shrug. "And now I'm everyone's favorite greaser."

"But... Your radio voice...?"

"Is my real voice I guess. Little lower than how I'd normally talk, though. Guess that's why you thought I was maybe older." You chuckle and watch him as he finishes his beer.

"I... I fell in love with that voice of yours." His words are soft and you know that you can't hide the surprise on your face.

"With... My voice?"

He nods, playing with the bottle, sliding it slowly between his hands. "I heard you one night on the radio. You were cool and kind to everyone that called in..." He smiles and sighs softly. "That's why I had to call yesterday. I wanted to speak to you... Just once."

You swallow roughly. "And was I everything you'd hoped for and more?"

He smiles, nodding. "It was so much more than I could have hoped for. I think I knew that if I called you... that if I called you I wouldn't do it. But speaking to you was one of my last wishes." He swallows. "I wasn't sure you would be so kind..."

You scoff. "I ain't always been this nice. I used to be a real fuckin' jerk." You run your fingers through your hair. "But that's all in the past, you know? I'm me now. Still an asshole but not always on purpose." You smile at him, showing off pearly white teeth.

"I... I suppose we all have those traits. But you certainly aren't unkind." He leans in a little closer. "I still love your voice, though. Could you use it? Your real voice?" He smiles at you and you can feel a flush spread over your cheeks.

"Uh..." _So fucking smooth_. You clear your throat and nod before dropping your act. "Anything for you, babe." You smile at him and you can hear him make a soft little noise in the back of his throat. Is he already drunk?

"Your voice is magnificent." He moves closer to you, knee brushing against yours. "I wish that I had a voice like yours." His hand rests on your thigh and you wonder if he knows what he's doing.

"Yeah? Well when I came here I always wanted a voice more like yours." You lean in a little, tilting your head.

He bites at his lip with a grin. "I bet there's a way we could trade voices." He giggles, leaning in a little more.

"Oh yeah?" You move in, keeping your lips inches from his. "I think I know how."

He looks confused for a moment but then you close the gap, feeling his soft lips against yours and his hands on your neck. You move slowly, letting your lips meld in a slow burn as your arms wrap around him. He's so light. You can't believe how _fucking light_ he is as you pull him into your lap and just bask in this warmth and contact.

But soon he pulls back and a worried look spreads over his face, like he thinks he's done something that he shouldn't have. "I..."

You put a finger to his lips. "Shh. Don't worry about it babe." You smile, moving your hand to cup his face. "That was real fucking nice."

He shudders in your lap and rests his forehead against yours. "Can I stay the night here?"

You chuckle. "I thought that's why you were here?"

"I mean... Can I sleep... Can I sleep in your room. In your bed." He pauses again. "...with you."

You swallow roughly and kiss him again. "If that's what you really want."

He doesn't answer you with words at first. Instead, his lips are on yours again, soft and sweet, and his hands are in your hair.

You hope that he isn't rushing this for some reason, even though you know that he might be. But you realize that this is what you've wanted these part two days. To hold him and to touch him and to _have_ him.

His lips on yours keep your mind from anything else though. You think that both of you probably need this more than you would either let on.


	5. Chapter 5

You aren't sure just how long you've been kissing him now. His lips are sweet and have only a faint trace of beer on them, and his weight in your lap just feels strangely right. You rub at his back until you realize that he's still wearing your heavy fucking jacket, so you move your hands to help him pull it off.

But he breaks away and looks scared of what you're about to do. "Cronus?" His voice is breathy and lower than it had been earlier.

"Yeah, babe?" You tilt your head, eyes scanning for whatever it was that was bothering him.

"Why are you taking off my, er, your jacket?"

You chuckle and put a hand on his face. "Because it's way too hot in here to be wearing it." Your thumb traces against his cheek. "That and I figured since you were staying..."

He pulls away from you and gets off your lap. "This... This is a bad idea." He's pacing now and you watch him as he lectures himself under his breath. It would be cute if it weren't so sad.

"Babe, there ain't nothing wrong with that we were doing. We were _kissing_. It's nothing."

He whips around and you can see the look of righteous fury in his previously placid features. "Nothing? _Nothing_?" He moves closer to you and suddenly you can't help but to feel a little intimidated. "A _kiss_ is far from nothing!" He leans in and suddenly you're pressed against the counter. If he were any bigger of a man, you would be petrified. "A kiss is _intimate_ and _deep_. It connects two people." His hands are on your face, brushing down to your neck. "It's sweet and not something to just call _nothing_."

You swallow and nod. What else can you do? "You're right. It's intimate. Very intimate." You bring a hand to his face, cupping it softly. "But it's only something if you _make_ it something."

He sighs. "It was something for me."

You smile and lean forward just a little. "Then what's the problem?"

He lets out a shuddering breath, cheeks flushing. "I... I'm not sure if I want more than just kissing."

"That's fine. Let's just get some sleep."

He leans in more and his lips are against yours. "Okay." The way his lips move against yours makes you feel like you're floating. He's so unsure but so soft and sweet. It's like you've been waiting your entire life for these kisses from him and for some reason it just makes you want to scream. Why did it take so long?

And why is he so fucking _young_?

But you push all of this to the back of your head and just keep kissing him. Again you're not sure how long the two of you are moving lips on lips, but he pulls away again and is scanning your face. "Can we just... Can we get some sleep?"

You nod. "Sounds like a plan to me, babe." You stand up and offer him your hand. He takes it and you smile widely at him as you lead him to your, admittedly not very tidy, room. He lets go of your hand and pulls off the heavy leather jacket, hanging it on your desk chair, before sitting on your bed.

The nervousness on his face is more than apparent and you sit down next to him. "Do you need anything to wear for bed?" You try to put him at ease. At least you didn't start stripping down, right?

He fidgets and you just put a hand on his shoulder, which seems to calm him down. "Pajamas of some sort would be most appreciated."

You nod and stand up, digging through your dresser. After a few minutes you walk back to him. "Here. I don't really wear pajamas, but I got some basketball shorts and an old t-shirt that should work."

He smiles and nods. "Is your bathroom through there?" He points at your closet and you just smile.

"Well that's a closet, but you should fit inside it. Go ahead." You sit back down as he moves over to your closet to change. You lay on your back and sing a little to yourself while you wait. You're honestly surprised at just how long it takes him, but the door opening again tells you that he's _finally_ out of the closet.

You snort a little. _Out of the closet_.

While you laugh to yourself, he sits next to you on the bed and lays down with a look of trepidation in his green eyes. You put a hand to his face again. "Babe. There's no reason to be so fuckin' freaked out. If you just wanna sleep then we're just gonna sleep, all right?"

He gives you a slow nod and just keeps his head against your hand. "I think I'm ready to sleep..."

You yawn and sit up. With a stretch, you get off the bed and turn out the light. As you strip out of your clothes, you wonder if you should let him know that you tend to really not wear _anything_ when you sleep, but instead you decide that you've got some sexy purple boxer briefs on. May as well keep those on, right?

You back back down and pull your covers over both of you. There's a moment where you think that maybe you shouldn't pull him close while you sleep, but you throw caution to the wind and hold him lightly. He lets out a tiny squeak and you just press a soft kiss to the top of his head. "Night, babe." You murmur to him and feel him move a little closer.

"Goodnight, Dualscar."

That keeps you up for quite some time. Had he really called you Dualscar? It's your DJ name, but still... The fact that he would use that for anything _not_ radio-related makes you feel like the sanctity of the name has been violated somehow. Like there's a stowaway on your pirate ship. But at the same time you feel like he's a world that's all your own. No one but he and Dave know that you're Dualscar. Well, no one that _matters_ anyway.

And, as much as you'd love to take the attention for being him, you'd rather keep him separate from Cronus Ampora. Keep him smooth and graceful where you're...

You sigh and shake your head a little. You're _thinking_ too much is what you're doing. So you close your eyes and do your best to fall asleep with your nose buried in Kankri's hair.

When you wake, he's still pulled close to you and that brings a smile to your face. You kiss the top of his head again and just watch him for a little. "Morning, babe."

You see a little smile of his own and a bright red flush spread across his cheeks. "Good morning." He pulls closer to you, almost like he doesn't want to let go. And as he whispers you realize why. "This isn't a dream is it?"

You swallow and just grip him a little more tightly. "No. This isn't a dream."

"That's exactly what someone would say in a dream."

You roll your eyes and put your hand under his chin to bring his face up. "It's not." You lean down and press a soft kiss to his lips. "That enough proof?"

He hums a little, opening his eyes. "I think so."

You laugh softly and just stay close to him. "Then seein' as we're in a not-dream..."

"Use your real voice..." He pouts up at you, moving closer.

You sigh and drop your American accent. "Fine. Now. Seeing as we're in a _not-dream_, let's get something to eat because I am fucking starved."

He furrows his brow and makes what you can only describe as the most precious miffed face ever. "Cronus. You are _far_ from starved. There are people who actually _are_ starved and your co-opting of the word is—!" You cut him off with a kiss.

"It's way too early in the morning for a lecture. Food is the only thing on my mind." You yawn as you get out of bed and stretch.

He huffs a little at you. "Very well. Food sounds... Reasonable." He gets out of bed after you and follows you as you leave the room, not even bothering to get dressed.

When you get to the kitchen you open the fridge and pull out your orange juice, taking a swig out of the carton before sitting down.

"That is dis_gusting_."

"Huh?" You look at the carton in your hand. "Oh yeah that. It's the problem with being a bachelor for so long. You forget how to live with other people around." You smile at him with a low chuckle. "But I was gonna make up some eggs and bacon. Maybe some hash browns. You eat meat?"

He smiles. "Yes, I do. Thank you for asking before simply assuming that I did."

You take another drink out of the carton and stand up. "Figured I should. Never fucking know who doesn't anymore." You put the carton back in your fridge and pull out all the necessary foods with a quick sniff to each to make sure that they're all good. "Now just sit back and I'll get this cooked up."

You cook your breakfast quickly and listen to him while he talks about vegetarianism. You honestly had no idea just how many different types there were until he started talking, and now you're not sure you really _wanted_ to know every possible scrap of information that he had in his wrinkly little brain. But you serve up his food first, half hoping it would get him to at least slow down, but he's courteous and waits for you to finish cooking.

With a sigh you take your seat and eat quietly, still listening to him speak. He really does have a great voice. And he certainly knows how to use it. But when you've both finished eating, you realize you have a question yet to ask. "So... Do you want me to take you home today?"

He pauses for a few minutes, staring at his plate as you watch the internal debate move across his features. Eventually he shakes his head, though. "No. I want to stay here for now. I want to stay with you."

You swallow and nod. "Sure. I've got a pretty long shift at the station today, though. It all right with you if we go there?"

He nods. "I'd love to see you at work." He smiles at you warmly and something hits you.

You aren't sure what it is, but it feels warm and tingling and something like love without the gut-wrenching pains. With a deep sigh, you realize that this is going to be a long day at work.


End file.
